


The Punk!Merlin AU

by L_awlietxoxx



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_awlietxoxx/pseuds/L_awlietxoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired/based on writingupsidedown's awesome artwork! Check that shit out...<br/><a href="http://writingupsidedown.tumblr.com/tagged/rockpunk%21Merlin">http://writingupsidedown.tumblr.com/tagged/rockpunk%21Merlin</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Punk!Merlin AU

“Bet you think you’re a real upstart, eh? Real hot shit?”

The tall, dark spikey-haired biker had appeared about ten minutes ago. It wasn’t unusual for people to pull off the highway into the rest area next to the football field where Arthur’s team practiced every week, but it was definitely not normal for said strangers to distract Arthur to the point of throwing him off his game. 

“Excuse me? Do I know you?” Arthur retorted with a raised brow, after a fouled ball had rolled right over to the stranger’s feet. The guy wore a battered leather jacket seemingly molded to him like a second skin, obscuring the deceptively slim and elegant frame underneath.

Not that Arthur had noticed or anything.

The guy just leered, bouncing the ball in his hand. Arthur scoffed. “I bet you wouldn’t even know how to dribble. Would you like me to help you?”

“I think I’d rather drive my bike into oncoming traffic than run around some pitch like you pansy lot.”

“Come on. Just what do you think you could do to me?”

“You have no idea.” 

With a wiggled eyebrow and a smirk to accompany his words, he finally tossed the ball firmly into Arthur’s chest. Arthur’s hard swallow gave him nothing to work with.

Growing impatient, one of Arthur’s teammates yelled, “Come on, Arthur! Stop chatting with your new mate and get the damn ball!”

Arthur turned back to the field. “You have it wrong. I could never be friends with someone who’s such an ass!”

There was the muffled sound of laughter under an engine jumping to life. Once play resumed on the field and Arthur glanced back, the man was gone.

~

He appeared again in the most unexpected of places. Arthur had just turned his gaze away for one second from the brunette sitting too-close at his side at the bar, in attempt to cover his annoyance at this most recent surprise set-up by his friends. Arthur kept grudgingly obligingly just because some base part of him still wanted to deny the truth, but when Arthur saw the stranger pressed forward across the pool table, he suddenly had much bigger things to worry about. 

The leather jacket had been draped over one corner of the table, leaving a white tank and scuffed black jeans opened with holes at the knees. He was bent over the edge of the table, the lean muscles showing along his arms as he lined up a shot. As he drew his arm back, a sliver of bare skin was revealed at his waist. All that snapped Arthur’s helpless gaze away was his companion’s phone suddenly ringing.

“Sorry, this’ll just be a second. I’ll step outside real quick,” she chimed in a too-cheery voice. Arthur just managed a nod. 

There was a knocking echo as the stranger sunk a ball, louder than Arthur had expected when he suddenly found himself standing beside the pool table.

“Hmm, it’s the hotshot footballer,” the guy drawled without looking up from his next shot, though his mouth curled upwards into a smirk around the glowing cigarette stuck between his lips. Arthur’s mouth went dry when the guy eased his shoulder back for another shot, and the tendrils of a gold tattoo licking up his neck eased into view.

“Atleast I play a real sport.”

“Think it’s fucking pie, do you?” 

He sunk another ball, then finally straightened up, regarding Arthur across the table with that same smirk. His hair was in the same unruly spikes, leaving his face completely revealed and bare in the dim light of the pub. His eyes twinkled while the sharp, prominent cut of his cheekbones threatened. 

“Then you try.” He added before tossing a cue to Arthur.

“Only if you tell me your name.” 

At first, the only response Arthur got was that same smirk around the cigarette. The stranger finally raised one hand to his lips to slide the cigarette from between them.

“Merlin.”

Arthur snorted. “Right.”

“Oh it’s right alright. Here’s my magic, see?” 

Smirking without a trace of diffidence, ‘Merlin’ tugged the neckline of his shirt lower, exposing a generous expanse of chest and revealing the entirety of the bright flames tattooed along his shoulder and neck, seeming to almost sparkle in the dim light. It took a few moments too long for Arthur to lift his gaze again, but when he finally looked up – it was certainly just a trick of the light – he could have sworn Merlin’s eyes had glowed for an instant. 

Arthur discreetly cleared his throat once Merlin pulled his shirt back in place, his tongue fumbling for something witty just like his hands were fumbling with the cue in his hand.

“How come you’re allowed to teach me this, but I can’t teach you proper football?”

“Because I’m an experienced expert. Hotshot like you would be a shit teacher.” Merlin took the few steps around the table to join Arthur at the other side. “And know that you know my secret, you owe me your name too, hotshot.”

“It’s definitely not that.”

“Well then you better tell me,” Merlin leaned closer, his arms resting on the top of the cue with the cigarette still between his fingers. “…before it sticks. It fits, you know, at least the ‘hot’ part.”

“Arthur,” he barely managed to state as he stamped down a blush at Merlin’s stupid words. He was fighting a desperate battle between feeling the need to look away from the heat of Merlin’s eyes and being utterly unable to. 

“Arthurrr…” The name stroked from Merlin’s again-grinning lips in something between a purr and a growl, making its way out slowly as if Merlin were tasting, savoring each letter. 

Merlin finally nodded his head towards the pool table. “Go ahead, Arthur. See if it’s as easy as it looks.”

Arthur took a quick second to recover from the way his name sounded from Merlin’s lips, before he could turn his attention to the pool table and start lining up a shot.

From the second Arthur leaned down, he could feel Merlin’s presence searing beside him. 

“Nah, your form’s all wrong…” 

A hand glided along the inside of Arthur’s arm before repositioning his elbow against the edge of the table. Then there was a light touch against his hip, urging a shift in his stance. Arthur didn’t need to lift his head to know Merlin was standing directly behind him, focused and appraising Arthur bent over at the waist in front of him. 

His pulse pounding deafeningly, Arthur took the shot before his hands started shaking. The ball bounced off the opposite wall before twirling its way into a hole. 

Before Arthur had a chance to gloat, a feminine voice sliced the air between them with Arthur’s name. The brunette was back, looking at Arthur and the stranger with a quizzical expression from across the table. Arthur took a surreptitious step away from the other man, while Merlin looked to be just barely fighting off laughter.

“Um… Martha, this is Merlin. Don’t bother getting to know each other. We were about to leave, weren’t we?”

Arthur set the cue down on the table on his way to lead Martha away. 

“Yeah, you have a banging good time on the rest of your date,” Merlin crowed plenty loudly from behind them, with almost all cheek. 

Arthur’s mind was whirling and his heart beating so fast, he couldn’t think of anything but putting space between the girl he’d been supposed to oblige with a nice evening, and the tantalizing stranger who suddenly wasn’t so much the latter but even more so the former.

“So this is officially a date?” Martha asked with a grin as they stepped outside. Arthur bit his lip. The grin just wasn’t quite right on her mouth.

~

Merlin showed up at Arthur’s football practice again the following week. He’d arrived with someone else who parked their bike next to his, but left only a few minutes later, leaving Merlin leaning against his bike smoking and playing with a handheld gaming device.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked during their first break.

“Had to see if you were any decent at football like you are at pool.” He lit a fresh cigarette, then flicked his lighter closed with a loud metallic click. The familiar grin that was half mocking and half flirtation was back, and Arthur realized with an embarrassing pang how much he’d missed it. “Right surprised me, I got to admit.”

“Someone needs to keep you on your toes. You’re much too cocky for your own good.

“Think it’s gonna be you, hotshot?”

“I told you, my name’s-…”

“Arthur. How could I forget?” 

Merlin breathed out smoke in the long moment it took for Arthur to regain his footing.

“How come your girl’s not around?” Merlin paused for a drag on his cigarette before his grin managed a return. “If I was your girlfriend, I’d be here everyday for a chance to see you running around in that tight jersey.”

“Good thing you’re not then.” Arthur didn’t need recovery time this round. “Or else you’d be distracting me every day.”

Merlin was full on beaming now, propping a foot back against his bike. “So I’m distracting, eh? Does that mean I better keep away for the good of your playing?”

“I guess it means…we’ll have to meet somewhere else.”

Merlin’s face took on something more serious, calculating, as he regarded Arthur through hooded eyes. 

Arthur had no idea what the fuck he was doing. The words had kind of raced out on their own accord, but he stood defiant behind them, for once glad that his heart had jumped to his tongue before his brain had a chance to stamp it down. 

A different smile made its way across Merlin’s face, this one more gentle. “Well, well, hotshot, you surprise me once again. You gonna jet off right away after your practice?”

“Nah, got nowhere to be.”

“You do now,” Merlin’s smile broadened. “I’ll take you somewhere.”

Arthur’s heart was pounding and he feared he may be about to lose his ability for anything like clever speech, so he quickly nodded with a “See you in an hour then,” and turned back towards the field.

~

A little over an hour later found Arthur in what was probably one of the last places he’d ever expected – on the back of a motorcycle with his arms wound around the slim waist of a very attractive, very male driver, holding on tight. When Merlin kicked the gears up, there was no other choice but to fit himself close against the shape of Merlin’s back, though the necessity of it did nothing to ease the surging attention and heat rushing to every single place they were pressed together.

The boardwalk where Merlin parked his bike was all but deserted, the children’s rides all frozen and lurid under the sun of early spring. The beach they hopped a locked gate to walk along was peaceful despite the wind and chill, as if the voice of the waves maintained a spell to seclude them from all the rest of the world.

“This is all a little cliché, don’t you think?”

Merlin snorted from where he was walking beside Arthur along the beach. “Says the footballer still wearing his letter jacket.” Arthur had just opened his mouth to protest when Merlin added, “Maybe I like clichés.” 

Arthur looked over, biting his lip, and Merlin had come walking nearer, their arms brushing with every other step. Arthur kept meeting his gaze out of the corner of his eye, and though Arthur was sure the same happening with anyone else would feel awkward to his very toes, with Merlin there had never been anything of the sort. Everything around them had taken on a unique thrum of its own, relaxed yet intense at the same time between them. It was thrilling in the novelty, yet Arthur felt himself doing nothing but sinking naturally into the richness of the moment and the promising shine of Merlin’s eyes.

“Come over here. I know a way to climb into where the rides are.” Merlin nodded his head back towards the boardwalk, his hand skimming over Arthur’s arm to bring him along.

“I’m not sure whether I should be encouraging that?”

Merlin just rolled his eyes, mischief dancing in the smile on his face.

“I’ve done this plenty of times before.”

“Oh? With plenty of other people?”

Merlin paused with his hand on the fence that rose up along the boardwalk’s edge, above their heads. 

Arthur chewed his lip for a moment, wondering if he’d been feeling all too at ease with the other man, when such a question had made its way out. 

Though Arthur couldn’t help it. There was something one of a kind in the air and wind that blew around them. His instinct couldn’t imagine Merlin not feeling the same, but he couldn’t help wanting to be sure all the same…

“I’m not that smooth, honey. I usually hang around here on my own when I need a quiet afternoon. That’d make you the first.”

While Arthur took in the words, Merlin climbed the fence almost effortlessly. A minute later he was dropping down onto the raised boardwalk on the other side, beckoning Arthur to do the same.

“Come on, Arthur, let’s see some of that athletic prowess.”

Arthur climbed, and tried not to let his thoughts linger too much on the way Merlin said his name. 

They clambered over all the gates to reach where the rides ran, helping each other up and down from fences and platforms, each time letting hands linger like they were stuck. Merlin insisted on fucking with the controls at least once, but Arthur’s nervous protests from where he was sitting atop one of the ride’s cars finally made Merlin huff and remove the key he’d managed to jam into the control panel from his key ring .

“Right pansy you are, for a big football player and all.”

Arthur got up and hopped down from atop the car. “Excuse me, not wanting to let you kill me when you don’t have a bloody clue what you’re doing.”

Merlin’s grin made its way back onto his face. “What, don’t trust me?”

Arthur looked towards the ground for a long moment. “I got on your bike and let you bring me here without a clue where ‘here’ would be. What do you think?”

Arthur was still looking down as Merlin’s scuffed boots came over nearer to him.

“Come on, one last ride we haven’t checked out yet.” 

This time, Merlin’s long, surprisingly gentle fingers curled around Arthur’s wrist and led him. Arthur went, staring at their joined hands and realizing how surprisingly little he minded being led around behind Merlin.

They approached the carousel, the paint on the parade of wooden animals faded and flaked, the multicolor light bulbs attached to every surface casting the sunlight in all directions.

“Would I be too obvious if I went for this one right away?” Merlin asked with a smirk as he went over to place his hand on the cock’s head. 

Arthur laughed, too enamored to be thrown off balance by the unfamiliar. 

“Possibly. But…” Arthur went to find another rooster, and reached up to rub the head of one that had been stopped at the tall peak of its arc. “I think mine’s bigger.”

Merlin let out a sound of choked laughter, starting to weave his way between the animals back towards Arthur, his fingertips trailing over their sides.

“Still managing to surprise me, hotshot.”

Arthur dropped his hand to turn to face Merlin’s direction. “What? Just because I play football, you were sure you already had me figured out? I just kick the ball in the net, then go chase skirts with my mates every night?” Merlin was standing before him now, a single horse between them. “Sorry, but I guess you’ll keep getting surprised if that’s what you think.”

“I haven’t thought that for a second, since I first saw you. You surprise me because somehow I still have no idea what to expect from you.”

Then Merlin came around the horse and was pushing Arthur backwards with firm hands against his chest. Arthur’s back met the broad center of the carousel and Merlin was there right away, blocking him in with his slimmer but slightly taller body and searching Arthur’s eyes.

“You still haven’t answered my question from earlier,” Merlin murmured, his voice focused and serious, but Arthur was already distracted by the proximity of his lips. “What happened with the girl who was with you at the pub?”

Arthur grew serious for a moment when he heard the question, his gaze darting back to Merlin’s eyes when he recognized exactly what the question was. Arthur’s clear-cut chance to back out, to be sure about this. The unspoken hurdle, and the last reassurance that this really is who Arthur was.

Arthur swallowed. Merlin struggled valiantly not to watch the movement of his throat, but rather to convey to Arthur through the seriousness of his gaze that whatever his answer was, Merlin would listen.

“I haven’t seen her again since that night.” Then Arthur added deliberately, “And I don’t think I will again.”

Merlin breathed out all in a rush, his fingers curling in against Arthur’s chest slightly, clutching the fabric of his jacket. Their bodies had already begun to naturally gravitate together, until blue eyes were so near to each other and colored with desire, they had a hard time telling where they each ended and the reflections began. One of Arthur’s hands reached out blindly, just needing needing to touch, and found its way to rest against Merlin’s hip just under the hem of his jacket, when Arthur whispered it, every bit as urgent as the need he felt.

“Kiss me.”

In the whirling, vulnerable moment the words left his lips, Arthur barely felt Merlin’s hands move to the backs of his shoulders and the way Merlin’s whole body gave a shuddering lurch against him. There was the whisper of hair tickling his skin as their foreheads bent together for a moment, and then nothing but the all-consuming rush of Merlin’s mouth finding his and then his lips fitting against the outline of his own in a perfect, desperate match. Merlin’s mouth held the tang of cigarette smoke behind the sweetness of his lips, and Arthur had never tasted anything better. His arms circled Merlin, pulling him in to properly pin himself against the carousel center, and to compensate Merlin took over the kiss. His lips took Arthur’s with slow, deep pulls, his tongue tracing the seam of Arthur’s lips only once to taste in the midst of their slow, thorough slide. 

A long, long moment later, still tasting Merlin’s breath, their foreheads leaned together after their lips eased apart. Merlin chased another swift peck right away and Arthur chuckled, feeling lit up from the inside. 

“You’re wonderful, you know that?” escaped Merlin’s mouth, and an instant later he was biting his lip as if to keep in anything that would be further incriminating.

Arthur couldn’t help the tiny, pleased laugh, accompanied by a smile too large to convey anything but adoration. He ducked his head forward to kiss right beside Merlin’s nose.

“Why do I get the feeling I’ll have to work for a repeat of a sentiment like that?”

Merlin let his arms slide up to rest looped around Arthur’s shoulders, while Arthur’s stayed circling his waist. “I think you’ll have plenty of time.” Their noses were brushing as their lips lined up again in anticipation, and Merlin confided in a whisper. “And between you and me, you won’t have to work very hard.”

~

A week later, Merlin was waiting leaned against the fence while Arthur’s football match finished. Arthur noticed no small amount of whispering among his teammates regarding Merlin’s repeated presence. Arthur didn’t have to wave or call to him, he knew exactly why Merlin was there.

Arthur felt fueled and wired, knowing Merlin was watching, and he was the one to sink the decisive final goal past the goalkeeper and deep into the net. As soon as the last whistle blew, Arthur stayed just long enough to accept the cheers and back-slaps of his teammates before immediately wiping his face down, pulling on his jacket, and jogging over to where Merlin was already waiting on his bike, the engine on and humming. Most eyes from the field were set on them, but Arthur didn’t care.

He climbed onto the seat close behind Merlin, leaving a kiss on Merlin’s lips on his way down when Merlin tipped his head back.

“Scored the winning goal and I’m the one who gets to take you home? Lucky me,” Merlin teased with his usual grin as he kicked up the engine.

“Woah there, one thing at a time, hotshot,” Arthur replied with a smile in his voice as he held tight, fitting himself against Merlin’s back as they sped away.

“But between you and me, you can take me home anytime.”


End file.
